


Gods, Masters, Slaves-All Bleed The Same

by CorsairLord



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:04:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsairLord/pseuds/CorsairLord
Summary: Two minds, one body, one Nation.





	Gods, Masters, Slaves-All Bleed The Same

“Damn fine work, son. Damn fine.”

“I had to. Would've killed my friends. Would've hurt kids. Innocents. Couldn't let them.”

“Well they won't hurt anyone else around here for a long, long time, son. And that lightshow at the Fort? Dunno how you pulled that off, but it was mighty impressive. Hell, I dunno how you pulled off a lotta things today, but let me be the first to say this: The New California Republic is in your debt, and we take care of our own.”

Oliver watched the Courier who had crushed the Legion beneath his boot, who had slaughtered the Fiends, had broke the stranglehold House had over New Vegas and saw him shift.

He stood up straighter, held his rifle tighter, met his eyes, and exuded an air of pure malice.

“I. Am. Not. Yours. And neither is he. You and your men have exactly a month to pull out of New Vegas and the surrounding territories before I break California. I will unleash nuclear hellfire on your heartland, I will release clouds of blood red poison upon your cities, I will call down the spear of the Old World upon your capital. New Vegas is independent of all now. Save itself.”

“The fuck? You think I'm going to allow some no-name walk along courier to dictate to me what the NCR will and will not do? Because, you listen to me-”

“No. You listen to me, General, I am not a courier, I am a reaper, a hunter, a harvester. I delight in death and madness. But the boy whose body I share? He is a courier. He became one because he wanted to make more friends. He wants to protect everyone, be friends with everyone and everything, and have peace. He was not made for this world. But I was. I was made to survive and thrive in this world. I have no desire to save anyone or protect anyone, save myself. But he does. And he allows me to live through him, to fight his battles for him. So I owe him. And so you will leave, or I will show you how I brought the Divide to ruin. Do you understand, General?”

Oliver wanted to say no, but then he saw. He saw the securitrons all around, the Brotherhood’s soldiers lasers trained on him, and his own men-no they weren't were they, they were Hanlon’s-putting down there guns. He knew he had lost a battle he never knew he was fighting. 

“I...dammit, I don't like it, but I do.”

“Good.”

And then the man was gone, and the boy was back.

“T-thanks for understanding, General. You and your friends can come back and visit whenever you want, okay? Because I really like you guys. Especially the Ranger guys and the big power armour guys. They're cool. We're still friends, right?”

Oliver almost wanted to say no, but he couldn't find it in him to say no to him. He was looking at him the same way his youngest showed him what he had made in kindergarten. He wanted approval. He wanted someone to like him.

“Yeah, yeah we're still friends. I'll tell my other friends that we'll leave, but don't worry, we'll visit. A lot of my California friends will.”

“Cool! I always want to make more friends. I have to go home to make sure my other friends are all okay, but you'll visit soon, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I will.”

“Cool. Bye, General. Bye Ranger guys!”

And with a cheerful wave to them all, the boy walked out of the Legate’s Camp.

A Ranger turned to him then.

“You're damn lucky you didn't go for your gun, you idiotic fuck. I woulda been the first to kill you, if the Courier didn't.”

“I could have you court-martialed for saying that, Ranger.”

“Try it, Oliver. I've been in more wars than you've ever armchaired. And I ain't loyal to an ignorant jealous jackass like you. I'm loyal to California, Hanlon, and the NCR. In that order. So grab the Legate’s head for the press shots and lets go. Before one of those Paladins takes a shot at one of my friends and I have to kick their ass.”

The Ranger drifted back to his team and made a show of picking up his rifle and removing the magazine, before moving out.

Oliver sighed and pulled out his knife, and walked over to the Legate’s impaled corpse. It was going to be slow going.

* * *

“You're not the Courier are you?”

“Very astute, Rose of Sharon Cassidy. How long?”

“I didn't know, not really, until I accidentally logged into your terminal. Honest mistake, I swear. I just wanted to play a holotape game I found, but then I started reading the entries and I've been watchin’ you careful since.”

“Hmm. And what do you think of me, compared to him?”

“I think...I think he's too good for this world, too sweet, too kind. Too big of a heart. Too trustin’. Too friendly. But you? You...well, ya scare me. You played everyone in the Mojave off each other, killed anyone who stood against you, and you did it all while never lettin’ on that you existed. I think...you're what would happen if you made Deathclaws intelligent and stuck ‘em in a man's body.”

He turned to her, and she felt a chill run straight through her as those deep blue eyes-normally filled with laughter, and life, now cold and dead-roamed over her. Then he smiled. Not the Courier’s wide and goofy grin, but a twisted and small smile.

“I personally prefer Nightstalker, but Deathclaw works as well. You're right, about him. It wouldn't be false to say he loves everyone. Because he does. Really, the things he wants to do in life are easy to sum up; he wants to make friends, to be with them and to play with cute animals all day. You're right about me as well. I made strategic decisions. I irradiated Cottonwood Cove because it would force the Legion to rethink their strategy. I did the same to Camp Forlorn Hope for the same reason, with different methods. I killed the Fiends because they threatened McCarran and New Vegas. I told the Boomers to attack all to weaken both sides. I had the Brotherhood help the NCR to ease tensions between the two and to have a reliable ally on my side. I had the Remnants attack the Legion’s rearguard to send them into disarray and to keep them as a viable trump card. I've allowed the Khans to go north to eliminate them as a Legion asset and let them grow strong, as to make them mine. I have only done exactly one thing that has not contributed to the Mojave’s well being, and had cost me time I didn't quite have.”

“And what was that?”

“I helped you. All the time we were out on the outskirts of Vegas? Me. Not him. Not that he didn't want to help, no. But he spent so much time with you. And I wanted more.”

“Whoa. So you...what, acted like him? Because you wanted more time with me?”

“Yes. When he first saw you, he thought ‘Very pretty, funny voice, likes the orange sour water, could be my friend.’ But me? Oh, I wanted you. Wanted you more than anything in my...facsimile of a life. I thought you were a gorgeous redhead with an alcohol problem and a bad attitude. I just wanted you more. You were surly and crass, but you never made fun of him or treated him like a freak. And I just wanted you more. You called him your best friend, and you made him smile for a day and a half, and I think I wanted you even more. You thanked me, and hugged me and I could smell the whiskey and gunpowder on you, and I almost broke my facade because I wanted you more.”

“So, uh, why didn't you ever say anythin’?”

“Because that would be playing my hand. And I couldn't. Couldn't risk it getting out that two people live in his body. Couldn't risk you hurting him, even inadvertently. Because he likes you a bit more than the others, aside from the robot and the dog. He adores those. But he likes everyone near the same. Save you. You remind him of his sister, before she ran away with a Raider and I had to find her raped and dead in their hideout. And if you treated him different, it would bring back his sister leaving him. And I will not put him through that again. But now? Now the groundwork is done and I can ease up on the throttle. Only come out when I really want to or when he needs me. I can be choosy now.”

He walked to her, slowly and purposefully, leaving his glass of water on the table near the balcony railing. He walked until she found herself pressed against the still warm concrete of the 38, and his face only a few inches from hers.

“An’ what do you choose?”

He smiled a wolf-like grin then, and it seemed as though the expression was foreign to him, but it was a real grin that reached his eyes-now glazed and wide.

“You, if you'll let me.”

“And if I won't?”

“Then you'll never see me again.”

“I'll let you then.”

And then his lips were on hers, and it seemed less like he wanted to kiss her and more like he wanted to devour each and every part of her, until she was all his.

And she wanted to be, in that moment.

* * *

 

“What in the hell did you just do, Cass?”

She turned around then, at Gannon’s voice, and cursed under her breath.

He had been staying in the 38 since he had let his Enclave roots show, having been unofficially exiled from the Followers.

He didn't seem to mind much, truthfully, as all of New Vegas knew him as both a crackshot and a crackdoc. It was a rare day the clinic he ran out of a Freeside warehouse wasn't packed. 

And now he had seen her leaving the Courier’s room, hair down, boots in hand and pants unbuckled.

“Uhmmm, nothin’?”

“Nothing? Really? Because it looks-and smells-like you had sex with him. And I pray to God that you didn't, seeing as how he has the mental capacity of an eight year old! What the hell is wrong with you?! Were you just too drunk to care, or did you promise him it would feel good?!”

“Hey, he went after me! I didn't do nothin’ he didn't ask me to, Gannon! So you can shove your fucked-up accusations up your ass, y’know, like the Legion bitch you are!”

He slapped her then.

He had never hit a woman who wasn't trying to murder him before.

He felt uneasy for a second, before he heard the telltale ‘click’ of That Gun from the Courier’s room.

And there he was, naked as the day he was born, That Gun in his hand and a terrifying glare on his face.

“Arcade, I like you. He likes you too. Hell, I even respect you. But I swear to all the Gods that don't exist you ever-ever-touch her in anything other than your medicinal duties, I will crucify you and those old holdouts. Do you understand, Arcade?”

“W-what's wrong with-”

The revolver went off and the bullet whizzed past Arcade’s head and into the framed poster behind him.

“Yes or no, Arcade.”

“Yes. Now can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?”

He watched as the Courier went over to Cass, whispered a few words into her ear, gently palmed the red side of her face, and kissed her on the forehead before he walked back into his room with her.

He came out a minute later, alone, wearing a pair of dusty jeans.

“Let's talk in the kitchen.”

They walked into the suites dining room, and sat at opposite sides of the table.

“Why aren't you…”

“Him? That's easy, it's because I'm not. Dissociative identity disorder. I'm the later identity. He is the earlier. This is his body. I share it with him. He only knows me as the man who gets rid of the bad guys. Rose of Sharon Cassidy did not force herself on him, I sought her out. If she had forced herself on him, I would have killed her. But she didn't.”

“This...this is a lot to take in. DID is rare, and almost impossible to categorize, but I doubt there's ever been a case like yours. Even before the War, maybe. So who are you?”

“I am a survivor. I am the perfect person to live in the Wasteland. I have no morals, no hard line ideals, and no boundaries. The only real attachments I personally have are him, and Rose of Sharon Cassidy. My loyalties to anyone else are fluid. I am the one who fights, who plans, who betrays. He is the one who charms, who makes peace, who befriends all. Everything I have ever done is because I am eternally indebted to him. I will protect those who he wishes to protect, destroy those who attempt those he cares about, and I will let him revel in the glory that follows. Because he wants friends. He is the human equivalent of a puppy. I am the closest thing to a Deathclaw in human flesh.”

Arcade leaned back in his chair, and thought about what this man had said. How there were two people in that one body. One, a boy who loved everything. The other, a cold-blooded lizard with no allegiance, save himself and Cass.

“You said that you were the later identity. When did you come into the picture?”

“When he was thirteen, and his twenty year old sister ran off with a Raider. One day, I woke up in his body, and knew I had to help him find her. To make sure she was okay. To give him a measure of peace. So I took his father’s caravan shotgun and a box of shells and went looking. Tracked them for a week. All the way out to the edge of the border, where the NCR’s grip is tenuous. Found her, dead and raped, trussed up like a turkey. So I caught the Raiders. Made them eat each other. Made them rape each other. Made them kill each other. All because I locked them in a cage. And after they were dead, I cut down his sister, put her on a litter and brought her home. He doesn't know what I did. All he knows is that his sister is in a better place and the bad men who hurt her are dead.”

“Dear God…”

“Surprised? Don’t be. His sister meant the world to him, never hurt him. Loved him, liked him like a friend. And they took her away from him. Treated her like their plaything. So I played with them. I remember the one who she ran off with screaming as one of his former friends raped him while the other chewed his face off. I wish he had lived longer. Because I wasn't finished playing.”

Arcade felt the bile rise in his throat, but held it down as he watched the man across from him track him with his eyes, study him. Measure his worth.

“You're...you're everything that is wrong with the Wasteland.”

“And I share a body with the boy who is everything right.”

“I-I need a drink.”

“Left cabinet, top shelf in the back. That's where Rose of Sharon Cassidy keeps her special stash. I'm sure she won't mind. I would also like to apologize on her behalf. The things she said…were uncalled for. My promise still stands, but please don't take it as me encouraging her.”

Arcade stopped pouring his drink and stared at the man...thing, sitting in the chair.

“Are you saying that because you actually believe that, or because you can't be asked to handle any inter-group drama?”

“Yes.”

“Well aren't you just a peach.”

* * *

 

 


End file.
